Seven Nights
by I'mNotDon
Summary: In six days and seven nights, Raven Branwen unravels a secret Ozpin has kept hidden from the world of Remnant for nearly two millennia.


Haven's springs were a lukewarm affair, the window of the Academy's communications office thrown wide open to the elements, the lush breeze tussling the mess of papers that sat on the thick oak desk. Amidst them all was a briefcase, itself quite orderly, with all the most important documentation sorted neatly inside. It sat on its side, on top of it a katana, black and uncoated, its revolving dust sheath leaning up against the back corner of the wall, pinched between the wall itself and a large collection of cherry cabinets.

The soft, mannered clicking of Raven Branwen's fingers whizzing across the keyboard composed the orchestra of the office, empty safe her hunched over in her chair, laptop across her knees having no space upon the desk to work comfortable and no intention of clearing it before she boarded her bullhead back to Vale in under two hours. All in all, the journey to Haven had been a short one, Vale's newly appointed communications liaison doing little more than making incredibly small talk with the various other officials present, and baby-sitting also newly appointed Professor Port as he did his best to establish himself among the international community.

The man was a nightmare for public affairs, but Raven was shrewd, and did her job well. Though hardly the model student, or even the model applicant, Ozpin's appointing of her to Valean Council's senior staff was not one made on whimsical favoritism, and she enjoyed surpassing expectations. She checked her watch, little more than an hour and forty five minutes before she would be airborne. Crimson eyes returned to her monitor. Six pages, single spaced, eleven point font; nigh concluded address to the Vale council by deputy headmaster Auburn Winchester. The next line would not come to her, however. Her mind repeatedly interrupted.

_". . . and it is in that spirit of honoring our natural rights, the rights of all be they human or faunus, that I take my humble part in introducing this stimulus to the Atlas council. This measure is essential for natural rights. On forcing each member of the globe to play by the same rules as everybody else, we strengthen the forces of freedom in all reaches of civilization."_

The young woman's eyes peered over the top over her screen at the fresh faced lieutenant commander, dressed sharply in his Atlas military white gleaming in the stage lights that glared against the television screen. He paused in his speech, demurring and allowing for the smattering of applause to swell about the assembly room.

Her eyes did not waver, hands on the keyboard stilled. She sat further upright in her chair, taking little notice of the pleasant cracks in her back as she un-hunched. From outside the window, the whispering wind burbled in carrying the jolly noises of the citizenry down below, punctured by the intermittent barks and the occasional horn. Through the doorway to her office, the murmur of the Haven's staff quarters had near silenced as the hour approached nine at night. Few remained in the building, perhaps her and a half dozen others across the whole wing.

_"I implore my fellow statesmen in the name of strengthening the forces of freedom that permeate our burgeoning world of peace to sign this protection into law, and I implore the honorable Jacques Schnee that he might leave the childish bullying to the schoolyard."_

Applause rocketed from the television. Through the window, the light of headmaster Leonardo Lionheart's grand office gleamed across the mellow night. Raven watched it a moment, then flicked her eyes back to the TV, and then back to the office. Then she stood, and placed her laptop about the pile of papers.

* * *

Leonardo Lionheart, did not usually work late. He preferred the quiet cheer of the early mornings, rising with the sun every day to get started on the days paperwork, then a walk about the grounds while the students and teachers roused themselves for class. Tonight, however, was an exception, and he sat kicked back in his office chair, radio playing Mistraeli folk while he held a briefing hastily written by his own deputy detailing the occurrences of the trade and budget relational meeting that had occurred earlier that day in his absence. It had been remarkably eventful, Nicholas Arc hitting hard at the council to liberate choked up funding indented for the national board of education. It was fairly standard, Arc's passionate ambassadorship for education well known, though it was the knife Ozpin's new communications director slipped into the debate that caught the eye of his deputy, and in turn himself.

_Upon councilman Valkyrie's rebuke of Nicholas Arc as knowing little about the public education system due to his privileged upbringing, Mrs. Xiao Long (nee Branwen) spoke from the back, inquiring as to the nature of Valkyrie's education. When the councilman stated that he had attended Sanctum and then Beacon, Mrs. Xiao Long promptly responded "Then shut up."_

It drew a chuckle from the headmaster. Thor Valkyrie was a blowhard, unlikely to last long in his seat, though sure to make a splash as long as he did. Branwen, or Xiao Long as she was now, was the opposite. Leo knew little of her, having merely met her a handful of times over the past five years, but she struck him as quiet, andrather thoughtful. Interested in her own security, and thoroughly uninterested in grand gestures, as much as her choice of clothing stated otherwise. Though she was a talented wordsmith, and even more talented a policy maker, if Leo's suspicions were accurate, Ozpin's intentions for her stretched beyond the office of communications.

He slid the briefing on his desk and stood, making his way to the tea kettle sat upon the counter that stretched along his bay window. The music had stopped, replaced by the familiar droning of Howard Beale, Mistral city's own nightly newscaster. He detailed, in considerably less drama than was presumably occurring, James Ironwood's address to the Atlesian council. He dabbed the teabag, listening idly. The affair was neatly handled. The attention of the world was removed from General Tullius, and fixed firmly on his lieutenant, the honorable James Ironwood. It would be the talk of the international news cycle for weeks to come, and Tullius would gradually fade into the static.

A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Raven emerge from the darkened hallway almost a shadow herself, black hair and black pinstripe suit blending her into her ombratic background, her pale skin showing almost like a beacon in the darkness.

"Hey," she said, voice soft across the expanse of the room.

"Miss Bra-sorry, Xiao Long. I did not know you were still here."

"Yeah." She took no outward notice of his slip up.  
"What's going on?" Lionheart stepped from his kettle, cradling his mug of tea as he moved back to sit at his desk.

"I've been thinking," she said, stepping into the room and leaning back against the door-frame, hands in her pockets. "About why Ironwood volunteered to slap down Schnee Corp."

Leo raised an eyebrow, "It's good polling information, you know that."

"Yeah, but why put the poll in the field at all, is what I'm saying."

Leo returned his focus to his desk, tidying a stack of applications delivered to him for review. "Commander James Ironwood is an egomaniac who needs to be told what people think of him."

Raven let out a small laugh, smirk light in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, that's pretty unusual for Atlas."

"Yeah." Leo cast one aside, the rejection an easy one.

"Leo," Raven stepped further into the room, soft lamplight cast strange shadows under her eyes. Her hand came to rest on the chair across from him. "Has there been a conversation in some room, some place, anywhere on any level about Ironwood being dropped from the leadership in 1996?"

"No," Leo answered.

He didn't meet her gaze long, but it was but a brief moment before she spoke again, voice still soft and pacifistic. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Because I thought maybe after Mountain Glenn, Tullius was receiving pressure to rattle the joint chiefs."

"No, Mrs. Xiao Long, I wouldn't give it too much thought." With that statement, he broke full engagement with her, returning to his pile of papers and extracting a thick pen from his breast 's dance upon the parchment filled the void left by their retreating conversation.

Raven's eyes moved to the side, mouth open ever so slightly as if there was more she wished to say. However, she straightened, hands returning to her pockets, the faint hints of that uninterpretable smile returning.

"Ok," she said, nodding and meandering from the room.

"Oh, Mrs. Xiao Long."

Raven stopped in the doorway, turning back to him.

"Congratulations, on the birth of your daughter this past month," Leo smiled, "I've heard she is quite the spirited little one. Yang, was it?"

Raven's smile turned warmer, though it was still little more than a faint crescent. "Yeah. Yeah she is. She takes after her father."

"After the two of you, she'll be a formidable huntress one day. Have a good night, Mrs. Xiao Long."

"Mr. Headmaster." And she was gone, the woman in black vanishing into the outer hallway, the scratch of Leo's pen paralleling her footsteps as she padded back to the communications office.

* * *

"And he hasn't burned the house down?"

"Despite his best efforts, no. Everything's fine here, Ray. Qrow and I have been helping him take care of the homestead, not like he couldn't do it himself. . ."

"Tai is a fully functioning, independent adult in the same way that Patch is a fully functioning, independent state."

". . . it isn't?"

"Your powers of deduction know no bounds, Summer."

Raven paced along the length of the terminal, scroll held to her ear with one hand, the other on her briefcase, having deemed the contents to sensitive to leave even with the rest of the entourage. She doubted Port or his aids would go snooping, but why even tempt the risk.

"I don't think you give Tai enough credit. It's not like we're babysitting him, and he's doing fine."

"I don't think you live day-to-day with him." Raven pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd been awake nearly thirty hours, and physically ached for the sleep she'd get on the plane. Only the pit in her stomach that yearned for little Yang to be held in her arms topped the feeling. It was the first time she had been apart from her daughter for more than a day, and though she'd be within Vale metro for the foreseeable future, her schedule promised many late nights at the federal office downtown, a half hour bullhead from home. At least once she hired a deputy communications director, or made the chief of staff do it. . .

"-aven!"

"Hm? Oh, sorry Summer, I was . . . uh, just spacing."

"I said I have Yang here with me. Do you want to see her?"

Raven did not. So far apart from them, she coped by painting her husband and daughter as annoyances in an attempt to ward off feelings of bereavement that she had no idea how to control. Saying as much, however, would not grant sympathy.

"I'll be back before long, I'd rather see her in person."

"O. . .kay? Whatever you say, Ray."

"Summer. . ." Raven grit her teeth. Across the terminal the announcement of her plane's arrival crackled over the PA, and she turned mid stride to make her way back towards the gate. "Please, I'm exhausted, and I'm irritable. Let me get home when I get home."

"More irritable than usual, you mean."

"Summer!"

"Ok, sorry."

"Ok." Raven echoed, sighing away from the scroll. Her mind was torn between wander and slumber, practically dead on her feet though she remained bothered. A thought bounced about in her mind, landing on settlements before tossing them aside and catapulting about anew. The glaring lights of the terminal lobby combined with entering her 41st waking hour made her feel as if she were hungover and drunk at the same time.

"Summer, were you by any chance watching James Ironwood's address to the Atlesian council tonight?"

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line, Summer no doubt attempting to work out the connection between the former topic, and the current. "I did not," she said. "I think Qrow and Tai might have. Why did you ask."

"Just . . . nothing. Forget that I asked, it's nothing."

"Alrighty then. Hey, I can hear the P.A. through the phone. Do you need to go?"

Raven bit her lip, glancing at her watch. It would be so much faster simply to teleport back, turning an overnight journey into a few seconds. Yang would be in her arms within minutes. But she still had work to do, and Port she knew would want a trial run at his remarks, and inevitably she'd have to polish them up to fit his overabundance of micromanagement and egomania.

There was also the small issue of the geographical limits of her semblance, but she'd rather not admit that.

"Yeah, yeah I better. My overlords insist that I travel parcel post. I'll see you in the morning, Summer."

"Bye, Ray. Say goodbye, Yang!"

"Coo."

_Goodbye, sweetheart._

But Raven would die before she uttered those words aloud. She pocketed her scroll and removed her top coat to tuck it under her arm. She then straightened her suit and grabbed her suitcase from the chair where she had left it, plunking it wheels down on the smoothed carpet and made to board the plane, nodding appreciatively at the bored ticket agent who waved her through with a tired sigh. She walkway was shut behind her, door latched shut with a clunk and hiss.

The collective council staff were already prepared to disembark, scattered about in their respective corners of the plane. Councilman Nicholas Arc and Adjunct Professor Peter Port sat with their secretaries at the command table inside the plane's only partitioned quarters, visible through the large class windows whose blinds were drawn to the top. Raven joined them, slipping through the door with a quiet 'hey', and seating herself at the corner, her back up against the wall. The conversation stopped as the rooms attention turned to her.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Xiao Long, I was beginning to worry we'd leave you behind." Port's conspiratorial tone was of such an attempt to engage, but since even their first meeting the gregarious man had truly never known how to approach the reticent young woman, student or colleague.

"Well . . . I guess it looks like they didn't," Raven responded awkwardly, hand scratching at the back of her neck. The clumsy exchange was promptly aborted, much to her relief, by Nicholas' engagement.

"Are we all set, Raven?"

"Uh, yeah, here," She glanced about herself, gathering her fatigued wits as she realized she'd managed to already loose track of the entirety of her two possessions. "I have remarks here prepared for the both of you." She pulled them from her briefcase, passing the respective briefs to the two men. "Peter, yours is a straight shooter, no further info, no elaboration. Just stick to the script. We don't need a repeat of Signal l with the midterms coming around."

She turned her attention to Nicholas, already wearing his spectacles, parsing her words line by line. "Nicholas, you'll be delivering this address to a roomful of stock-market investors. Keep your tone mellow, they don't want to feel persecuted, but Ozpin, and therefore, I want them to feel the pressure."

"Understood," he said. "Hence the folksy introduction?"

"About that 'folksy introduction,'" Raven delivered her words with staccato as she flipped open her laptop, finkers whisking in the password. "VBC says there's a 40% chance of precipitation tomorrow afternoon. In that case your address will be moved from the botanic gardens to their ballroom." Raven stood, gaze stern as her tone hardened with each word delivered with a hammer. "If that happens, I don't want to hear the words 'as I look out over this magnificent vista,' cross your lips, and if they do I'm going to point my finger at you and say debilitating things. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mother," Councilman Arc demurred with a roll of his eyes.

"Good." Raven sat back down, pulling the padded leather chair into the table to better reach her keyboard. Around her, the formerly silent secretaries launched into briefing mode, conversing with their respective employers as to the next item on their itineraries.

Her eyes stared at the blinking cursor on her screen, hands poised and ready to move. They remained still, however, and her gaze gradually blurred out of focus, voices fading into the film of her background.

_"No, Mrs. Xiao Long, I wouldn't give it too much thought."_

She blinked, and her fingers sprung to life, fluttering across the keyboard with a delicacy unparalleled in any other aspect of her life. The words came automatically, and she flicked her eyes at an aid delivering coffee to the professor and asked her for a cup of tea.

* * *

**This was just a little idea that came to me over the weekend. I thought I'd type it out and post it here. I take a few liberties with Raven's character (and obviously Jaune's father and Nora's mother, as obviously neither have appeared in the show), as I felt like her one-dimensional selfishness was really a wasted potential. She could have been an incredibly dynamic character, instead reduced to the tough-on-the-outside scared-on-the-inside dynamic that appears in way too many things. Here she is much the same person, but I've given her some legitimate intellectual muscle as I think it makes the character much more interesting. She's also much more soft-spoken, a change I feel makes her less of a cartoon.**

**Let me know what you think, if I feel this idea pans out and people like it, I'll post some more. **


End file.
